


Hues of Black and Red

by justanothernobody



Category: K-pop, Super Junior
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Codependency, Feelings, Hate to Love, Heavy Angst, Love/Hate, M/M, Red String of Fate, Soulmates, Unhealthy Relationships, You've been warned, beware angsty shit up ahead, kinda i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 13:16:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14832977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothernobody/pseuds/justanothernobody
Summary: Their story described in — as the title suggests — hues of black and red.





	Hues of Black and Red

**Author's Note:**

> Making angsty teukchul is fun. These two are really fun to write about in short stories. And apparently this was enough to get me out of my short author's block :|
> 
> English isn't my first language so feel free to inform me of the mistakes I've made here. I'm opened to constructive criticism so feel free to do that too. Enjoy!

The red hue blends with the black on paper. The colour seeps through the thick paper and stains it with crimson. Jungsoo watches the watery remnants glide across paper. It reminds him of many things, some of them play out more vividly than the others.

  
One, the red of the setting sun as it welcomes the night.

The taller of the two joins their hands and holds onto it as he runs up the staircase. They arrive to a metal door that opens to reveal the isolated rooftop of the building.

There's trash scattered here and there. Dead leaves probably an accumulation of what the wind has blown since the last two autumns, cigarette butts flat on the ground after being stepped on to put it out, some coffee cups and beer bottles they haven't thrown away rom their last visit there.

The coolness of the wind blankets over the town. The streetlights provide a man-made glow to the dark streets. The way the golden hour would leave its trace on Heechul's pale skin in the form of an ethereal glow.

  
Two, the dynamic between them that started out as a shade of precious rubies and deformed into an inky black.

Truly, what they have was never on the easy side. They constantly trigger anger and frustration from the other. Their fights leave bruises on clear skin. Harsh words act like salt to a wound. Jungsoo spits out hatred and Heechul replies with the same. But they never yearned to go. Both parties wanted — no, _needed_ — to stay.

The anger was just a show of care. The shouting was an equivalent to loving words exchanged. The venom pouring out of their mouths were 'I love you's in another form. After all, don't they advise most to 'be subtle about it'?

  
Three, the drying blood from the scars on his wrist that becomes similar to the in-between shade when the red watercolour mixes with the ebony.

It wasn't a new sight for Jungsoo to witness. The wounds were never worth hiding — he believes that whatever you try to conceal will end up being revealed anyways.

Heechul doesn't bother lying when he grabs his wrist harshly and inspects it. He doesn't feel ashamed when he replies "craft knife" when inquired what he had scarred himself with this time. He doesn't even flinch when the other sighs as he uses a cotton pad soaked with rubbing alcohol to clean before dressing the wound.

  
Four, the bloodshot eyes and the dark circles under them that accompany after a sleepless night.

Everybody practically knew of Jungsoo's insomnia. The way he restlessly twists on the bed unable to fall into slumber. The exhaustion clinging to him like a lifeline — nothing exactly new.

But behind those sober eyes is fondness as he watches the younger sleep peacefully. He feels calmed, the serene atmosphere laying down comfortably even in every dusty crevice of their room.

  
Five, the everlasting trust, want, and care hidden between the onyx of their malice.

It's true that they might have an unhealthy dynamic. But a simple comparison would be like a boat and the ocean wind. The wind may be too rough at times, but the wind is still necessary to keep the boat mobile.

And no matter what they'll keep coming back to each other. Even when the words hit home too deep, even when the punches leave a mark that never goes away, and even when they become too dependent on each other to let go — they'll still be side by side. Walking through every obstacle hand in hand.

 

The red string of fate entangles their heart and soul together in a messy knot, and what they do is tighten that knot up in hopes to make it neater. All they end up with is a mess of what had been a neat thread. So for now, the spiteful tugging will have to suffice in place of the love.

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted on AFF under the account @mp_2506
> 
> Come say hi and give me prompts on Twitter @mp_2506 :)


End file.
